
Class _?S3i5-2J3. 
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COPYRIGHT DEPOSnV 




JEANNETTE F. LOVE 



THE 



FALL AND RISE OF 
CUSHAN 



AND 



OTHER POEMS 



By JEANNETTE F. LOVE 

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THC STONEMAN PRESS CO. 
COLUMBUS, OHIO 



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COPYRIGHTED BY 

JEANNETTE F. LOVE 

1911 



©C!,A202249 



DEDICATED TO 

MY CHILDREN, HUSBAND 

AND 
ALL FRIENDS WHO ENCOURAGED ME 



THE FALL AND RISE OF CUSHAN 
AND OTHER POEMS 



DaybreaK 

Tis dark, but streaks of the fair morning's light, 
Rift the shadows that reigned o'er the realms of 

night. 
The sable-browed queen descends from her 

throne, 
With her glittering train, and now hastes to be 

gone. 
A rustle creeps through the oak and the fir ; 
A chirp sets the reeds and rushes astir. 
The glad day is breaking, the orient glows 
With a thousand rich tintings of amber and rose. 
The last truant star now fades on our sight ; 
The cricket, the piper, that cheered the lone night 
Creeps away to this nest ; the drowsy cuckoo 
Shakes from his pinions bright drops of dew ; 
Robin awakes with a song in his throat. 
The lark to his mate trills his musical notes. 
The herds awake and the lord of the fold 
Drowsily shakes his great coat of wool. 
Steals a murmur, a gurgle the woodland along, 
A twitter, a warble, a ripple of song ; 
The sun hastens up the ethereal way, 
And the fair morn dissolves in the bright beams 

of day. 



Bow 1 Cove to Dearketi 

How I love the quiet country, 

Its decorum suit me quite ; 
Its adornments and its language 
Fill and thrill me with delight. 

Come with me awhile and listen 

To the sighing of the pines ; 
Hear the zephyrs whispering vespers 
'Mong the morningglory vines. 

How we love to sit and hearken 

To the trickling of the rill, 
Or to mark the measured tinklings 
Of the sheep-bells on the hill. 

Hear each feathery tribe and insect 
Sing its own quaint ancient tune, 
While the spring enamored lingers 
'Mong the rosy bowers of June. 

Sweetly the distance chants the numbers 

Of the baser sounds, and still 
Sweeter flows the mellow cadence 
Of the harmonies that fill 

All the glad alcoves of nature 

With their trios and sextetts, 
And the listener gets a melody 
That he never quite forgets. 



mornittg 

Tis morning, yet the darkness holds 

Nature still in ebon folds; 

The day-god bursts the barred doors 

Of night and casts his tints before 

The clock's hands mark the hour of four. 

The wan moon like a modest nun 
Veils before the rising sun; 
The stars blow out their friendly lights, 
And Darkness, dusky-queen of night 
Hies before the morning's light. 

And Beauty dips her silver oars 
In waveless ethereal seas ; 
Morn's splendor gilds the orient. 
And peaceful fires from heaven sent 
Crown the day with sweet content. 



Quietly the cattle on the hillsides lie. 
Low tinkle the bells of the flocks hard by, 
The katydid chirps and crickets call 
And silence lends a music to all. 

Dim, rises the city in the vale below, 
Gently the river ripples in its flow ; 
Wavelets dance, and the moonbeams mold 
The dimpling waters into waves of gold. 



Wheatfields nod and the waving grain 
Billows and flows like a surging main ; 
The plover pipes, — his vesper rings 
And silence sweetens the song he sings. 



Tti m 6araeit 

Down in the shadows where the rivulet flows, 
And the air is perfumed with the breath of the 

rose, 
Where the jessemine trails its vines in the dew. 
And birds of many a song and hue 
Flit 'mong the branches all the day long. 
Enhancing the garden with beauty and song. 
There I build me an altar, while the glad summer 

glows. 
And the air is perfumed with the lily and rose. 
The groundmouse creeps by me and butterflies 

pass; 
I hear the soft tripping of squirrels in the grass ; 
The cricket's low chirrup, the honey-bee's hum, 
The grasshopper's fife and the black beetles 

drum; 
Here robin pipes gleefully all the day long. 
And the woodland resounds with the burthen of 

song. 
And the bee dips its wings in the nectar that flows 
From the cups of the jessemine, the lily and rose. 



Co lily 6araen Queen 

Thou sunkissed flower, 
Queen of my garden bower 
Though thou tower'st above the flowerets that 
nestle nearth thy shade, 

Still with a queenly grace 
Thou bow'st thy radiant face 
And smilst upon them till autumn claims thee and 
thou fad'st. 

To thee no harp is strung, 

Nor poet, ere hath sung ; 

The rustic virgin kisses thee and the city maiden 
fair 

Plucks thee from thy stem 
Half timidly, and then 
Half hides thee in her ample folds and binds thee 
in her hair. 

Thou sunkissed flower, 
Queen of my garden bower, 

It is to thee erstwhile my zithern is attuned 
Autumn is less sad 
The busy world more glad. 

And bird and cricket sing more joyously because 
thou'st lived and bloomed. 

Like thee, sweet flower. 
In this decisive hour 
My soul would turn away from all desire for 
praise, 

9 



And looking apace 
Into the Savior's face 
From the sun of righteousness would draw a 
radiance and grace. 



mia-ddv in July 

How dreamily, dreamily, the hour goes by- 
All nature seems to sleep. 

And o'er the portal of July 
Somnia seems to keep 

Her vigils ; not less bright the days 
Nor earth less verdant seems. 

But Drowsia, her septre sways 
And mesmerized nature dreams. 

How dreamily, dreamily drifts the hour — 

On noisless wings the butterfly 
Flits past, and from drooping flowers 

Sips their nectar silently. 
The weeping willow stoops to kiss 

The chattering brook that flows 
Beneath, and chants a lullaby 

To the calm noon-tide's repose. 



10 



to a hornet 

Whither, thou wandering constellation do'st thou 

stray ? 
Ah, whither, on thy solitary way 
Do'st thou wander ? 
Far from yon bright-orbed wilderness with 

silver wings wide spreading. 
Thou launch'dst upon the great unknown, its 

viewless track threading. 
Light-poised thro the great medeaval space 
Unknown 'twixt earth and heaven, we thy mean- 

derings trace, 

Erratic star. 
Yon firmament is gemmed and set, a beauteous 

citadel 
With glittering worlds resplendent, yet far, far 

away 

Errant and lonely. 
From its lofty suburbs of beauty, who can tell ? 
The why and how thou do'est solitary stray. 
The ancient world beheld thee with apprehensive 

dread 
A messenger thou seemdst to them whose hoary 

head 

Pestilential shook. 
Or war or famine or some pernicious plague ; 
Their doom which vague superstition conjured 

up, 
Upon thy fiery wings in burning words they read. 



11 



Beneficient heaven, to prepare them for the 
stroke 

Thus, giving warning. 

But science discovers, in these later days 

A wandering constellation bright with electric 
fires 

Flying through space. 

But where thou launch'dst or when or whither 
tending 

None knoweth, no not one — not e'en the learned 
and wise. 

Toward earth or sun descending or ascending, 

Thou art seen, that's all, 'tis here man's knowl- 
edge dies. 

REFLECTIONS 

Here is mystery, too deep for e'en the scientific 

mind 
There are summits, whose virgin heights must 

yet remain unclimbed. 

But when all is done, 
And our eyes are opened on the bright celestial 

shore 
And truth is all, and theory shall vaunt itself no 

more 
We'll find the paths of science whereon men took 

delight. 
Centered in eternity, and the Allwise — Infinite. 

12 



Cbe Sottd of tbe (Uind 

Hist ! Tis the voice of the wind outside, 

Sweeping hilltop and prairie far and wide. 

Now list, while he sings a lullaby song, 

A song of the North and his turbulent throng, 

Rocking the cradles in every tree top 

With fingertips icy and strong. 

Draw close to the fire, the evening is chill, 

Strange rappings are heard at casement and sill, 

'Tis the rollicking wind, with boistrous tread 

Traversing the lawn, and overhead 

Clicking the shutters and tapping the panes 

Now striding the chimney and roof, — and again, 

Transcending decorum of robber or boor. 

He fumbles loudly the knob of the door ; 

Whispers, listens, then with rant and with roar 

Again rocks the cradles in every tree top. 

With fingertips icy and strong, 

And whistles and sings with icy lips. 

And rocks the cradles with icy tips. 



13 



Prologue 

to 

Cbe fall of Custoatt 

O Spirit, come and lift the pall ! 
And through the ages may I ken, 
What of kingdoms or of men. 
May serve in truth to enlighten all. 

O heavenly muse my song inspire! 
Sing to my heart the soft refrain 
Of heaven ; let the melodious strain 
Sweep through my soul, till all admire. 

Draw back, draw back, O Spirit fair ! 
The veil that screens the misty past. 
And let me through the ages vast 
See teeming millions moving there. 

Just as they moved in the olden time, 
Ere yet the chord of life was broke ; 
Ere the destroying angel smote 
The ancient nation, in its prime. 

O hearken while I plead once more — 
May nations catch the silver strain. 
And carol o'er the glad refrain, 
'Till it shall ring from shore to shore. 



14 



tbe fall of Cttsbait 

I saw the tents of Cushan in affliction ; and the 
curtains of the land of Midian did tremble. — 
Hab. 111:7. 

Yet destroyed I the Amorite before them, 
whose height was like the height of the cedars, 
and he was strong as the oaks ; yet I destroyed 
his fruit from above, and his roots from be- 
neath. — Amos II, 9. 

An ancient tree once thrifty grown, 
Its regal form uplifted high. 
Painted its branches 'gainst the sky. 
It's greatness to the world was known. 

Deep rooted down, it felt no storm ; 
Its branches broad, defiance waved. 
And many a beating tempest braved 
The lightning-driven bolt ne'er harmed. 

It basked in sunshine, bathed in shower, 
The forest great, obeisance made 
And at its feet its trophies laid. 
And homage paid its kingly power. 

Its strength invincible had proved. 
And when the muttering thunders spoke 
And rushing torrents madly broke 
From lowering clouds, it stood unmoved. 
One tranquil eve when summer filled 
Her cup with beauty, — and the breeze 
Crept through the tops of towering trees, 
And flowerets nectared cups were spilled 

15 



upon the air, and zephyrs played 
'Mongst restless leaves, and heaven smiled 
Upon the fruitful earth, — ^her child, 
In gorgeous robes of wealth arrayed. 

A woodman to the forest sped, 
And laid the giant monarch low 
In the vale, where violets blow 
And lowly plants sweet incense shed. 

Scattered and peeled its branches lay 
Withering in the scorching sun. 
Until from heaven, a pitying one 
Descending, bore a branch away. 

Far across the restless tide 
Neath skies cerulean long it flew, 
Nor paused to rest. The midnight dew 
Dampened the heavenly pinions wide 

That glistened in the morning's sun. 

Until the voyage thus begun 

Was ended, and the branch was set 

In soil where gentle showers would come 

And nourish it till sturdy grown, 

'Twould tower like the ancient tree. 



This tree was ne'er a woody plant 
In shady woodland earthed and grown; 
A race, 'mongst other nations sown. 
Lofty, towering — ^noble, grand. 

16 



Twas Ethiop, the sable king 
Exulting in his royal pride, 
Who did the power of God deride, 
And count his love an unholy thing, 

When plenteous peace his domains crowned. 
And cloudless skies above him shone. 
And pleasure filled life's cup alone, 
His exultations knew no bounds. 



PART II. 

O know ye not, Tirhaka's crown, 
And Shishak's robe inwove with gold ? 
And Candace, royal queen of old, 
A line of Ethiop's renowned ? 

O know ye not, the eastern clime. 
The land where reigned those royal sires ? 
The land of shadows, where the fires 
Of science loomed in olden times? 

Where spicy bowers perfumed the breeze, 
And soncy queen regnant of yore. 
The cradle of first ancient lore. 
Sat proud Aegyptus of the seas. 

There once Sahara's gardens smiled, 
And fields of golden harvest waved, 
And gorgeous cities richly paved 
Stood, where now burning sands lay piled. 

17 



Where bones now strew the desert waste, 
Where now the sifting simoons sow 
The plains with sand, passed to and fro 
Surging throngs of every caste. 

To Labor's call, the myriads trode, 
A joyous train; nor dreamed of fear 
Nor reckoned once the time was near 
When the avenging hand of God 

Should sweep with beson, wild, the land, 
Which to such opulence had grown; 
The land to Isis bowing down. 
To Chronus stretching forth the hand. 

PART III. 

With all the ease he had attained 
He craved still greater ease, and sought 
A way to heaven with pleasure fraught, — 
Sensual pleasures, unrestrained. 

He set him to philosophize, 
A heavenly pass by stealth to gain 
Without exertion, care or pain. 
Into the realms beyond the skies. 

He reasoned thus : 'Tf God is just 
He'll save all creatures he has made," 
And through a long, dark esplanade 
Of thought he sped: *Tor why from dust 



18 



Demand a boon for sin, and why 
A toll, the heavenly pass to pay 
Across the gleaming milky way 
To realms, they say, beyond the skies ?'' 

The path he chose to darkness led, 
Blinded reason hung a dismal scroll, 
And ease, for which he'd risked his soul, 
Before him like a phantom fled. 

God's plan, with his own plans he crossed, 
A net for his own feet he spread, — 
A labyrinth for his soul to tread, 
Through ages dark, in mazes lost. 

Wisdom forsook her queenly courts, 
And reason from her empire fled; 
And retrogression ruled in dread 
The realms of thought, with dire consorts. 

Man unto man grew stren, and vast 
Suspicion, like a mighty flood, 
Torrentous swept twixt brotherhood ; 
His greatness fell before the blast. 

Degradation seized his state, 
Irreverence and hatred blent. 
Accomplished swift his sure descent, 
And desperation sealed his fate. 

The bitter cup, he mixed, he quaffed, 
And not content to drink alone. 
To generations handed down 
The bitter potion-poisoned draught. 

19 



And everything which greatness gave 
Dissolved when he forsook his God 
And on his great commandments trod 
And sware : ''There is no God to save/' 

War like a ghastly demon stood, 

On towering heights and battle waged, 

And tribe his neighbor engaged 

And brother bathed in brother's blood. 



PART IV. 

Thus Ethiop lost his primal rank 
Among the nations as a peer, 
And lo ! into the darkened sphere, 
Of heathenisms night he sank. 

From heights tenriffe he fell, — but slow. 
Not toppling headlong from the crest, 
But step bv step, descending fast 
The rugged steeps to vales below. 

A retrograde, — first from his troth 
He stepped down to adore the spheres, 
And score decades of irksome years 
Worshipped these alone, forsooth. 

Next, images of these he sought. 

His orisons and vespers rose. 

At morning's dawn and evening's close 

To these that his own hands had wrought. 



Idolatry with its mantle black 
Wrapt up the years, that calmly crept 
Apace, while dull tradition slept. 
Nor kept a record of their track. 

Their sullen lips scarce lisp the past, 
But faintly, now and then, and low, 
Like whisperings on the winds that blow, 
Come sighings of the ages past. 

Still, with heart dissatisfied . 
His spirit sought a kindred one ; 
Thus, hero-worship was begun 
And souls of men were defied. 

For though depraved, the human soul 
Still craves for something purer, higher, 
To which the spirit may aspire 
Than like things of terrestrial mold. 

Things sublunary can't atone, 
And vainly oft attempt to please, 
For earth hath ne'er a balm to ease 
The human heart: — but heaven alone. 

His sad fate bids us all beware 
Lest we should fall from high estate ; 
Lest pride would seal the scorner's fate 
And bring debasement and despair. 

"If angels fell why should not men 
Beware,'' lest haply they might fall ; 
This warning comes to one and all, 
Nations and kingdoms, great and small. 

21 



When least we think, while Peace reclines 
And joy exults 'neath Pleasure's dome, 
Is oft Destruction's hour to come; 
For in the still of noon repines, 

The flowers, while brightest shines the sun. 
And while the heavens refulgent smile, 
And restful hours to sleep beguile. 
The great destroyers work is done. 

And where now are the sons of Ham? 
The Cushite and Phoenician sons. 
The Menilikes, and Sabeans, 
The mighty hosts ! The mustering clans. 

Have they no voice to answer, ''Here?" 
Have they no records of their own? 
Yes, late discoveries have shown 
Lasting history writ on stone 
Dug from their ancient ruins there. 

Tho ages o'er their ruins broad 
Relentless centuries have rolled, 
Yet once again e'en as of old, 
They shall be gathered ; we are told 
Ethiop shall stretch her hands to God. 



22 



Sequel to tbe fall of €u$toatt 

Proud bird, no more on eagle's wings 
Thou soar'st with the flocks of heaven, 
But unto baser spheres thou'rt given 
To plod thy way with lowlier things. 

Proud Ethiop, kingdoms no more 
Court thy behests, but scorn thy fate; 
And since thou'rt fallen from high estate 
They even deny thou once were great. 

But thou wast great, we know thou wast 
The truth tho' hushed at will not down, 
Nor can a million voices drown 
The one true voice the scripture hast. 



Cbe Rise of c;u$bdit 

And the Lord shall smite Egypt; he shall 
smite and heal it; and they shall return to the 
Lord and he shall be entreated of them and shall 
heal them. — Isa. XLX, 22. 

From beyond the rivers of Ethiopia my sup- 
plaints even the daughter of my dispersed shall 
bring mine offering. — Zeph. Ill, 10. 

Princes shall come out of Egypt; Ethiopia 
shall soon stretch out her hands unto God. — Psa. 
LXVII, 31. 

Shall Ethiopia rise again. 

By the power of heaven 'twill rise, 



For the mouth of God has spoken 

And his word can never fail. 

Through times mighty telescope, 

See the nations as of old, 

Mustering in royal line; 

Not unto the battle-drum 

But to the gospel's silver chime. 

Ethiopia's sons returned 

From proud Columbia shall call 

The scattered tribes, — ''the nation peeled," — 

Tides of humanity shall flow. 

And multitudes dispersed shall come, 

Rushing like an open sea ; — 

A vast sea of humanity. 

Hoary headed sires shall come. 

And forms bent low with wintry age. 

On bended knee shall seek our God. 

And many a fane shall dot the plains 

And pilgrims kneel and fondly pray 

For Africa and Columbia. 

Our ships shall plow the ocean weaves 

Bearing merchandise to thee. 

Land of Columbia, and for thee 

A million hearts will fervently pray 

For blessings on Columbia. 

Return then, Afric's sons return. 
To the wide, wild wastes beyond the sea; 
Country and kindred wait for thee 
Return ye from captivity. 



24 



Why stand apart? Thine own why spurn? 
With folded arms your lifelong day 
Why sit ye idle still and say 
We care never to return. 

Ye're wedded by fraternal laws, 
God grant, Almighty Father rouse 
Slumbering souls. May they espouse 
Their country's and their kindred's cause. 

Ye daughters of Ethiopian blood 
Arise, your sisters' cause embrace; 
Lend your aid, that they may grace 
A nobler, truer sisterhood. 

With Bibles, prayers and hymnbooks go; 
With instruments of war like these 
God wins a thousand victories. 
His faithful want nor fear shall know. 

Ye sons, why stand with rusted blade? 
Broader fields by far expand 
Ungarnered; whitened harvests stand. 
Thrust in O thrust! Stand not aside. 

Ye learned who no vocation find 
From glutted ranks ye turn away 
And loiter all your lifelong day 
With noble purpose undefined. 

Arise ! 'tis heaven calls today, 
Can'st still disdain the piteous call? 
God forbid, while thousands fall, 
That careless souls should still delay. 

25 



What care we if our skins grow dark 
'Neath torrid suns? So we fulfill 
Our mission, and our Maker's will 
We work out. Duty calls to work. 

The rivers roll o'er golden sands, 
And murmur softly there, as here. 
The mellow moonbeams just as fair 
Gild the plains of that far land. 

Heaven's tapers as brightly shine, 
As gloriously the ancient sun 
Rejoices in his daily run. 
As in the far off olden time. 

Return, ye loyal-hearted ones 
And Africa no more shall be 
The land of shadows, but the clime 
Sunny, of Ethiop's noble free 

Then tyranny shall find a grave. 
And peace and justice strike glad hands. 
And o'er the seas and o'er the lands, 
Their everlasting banners wave. 

Open your ranks, ye aliens, then, 
Make room for Ethiop's sons, behold 
Ethiopia we are foretold 
Beneath God's hand shall rise again. 



26 



SING ETHIOP 

Ethiop break forth in singing 
Rise ye heathen nations, rise, 
Morning cometh ; night's receding 
Gleams yon clear cerulean skies. 

Clap your hands ye wooded hilltops, 
Mountains shout the glad refrain. 
Heights shall sing and vales shall answer, 
Ethiopia shall rise again. 

Deserts shall rejoice and blossom. 
Jungles wave with golden grain. 
Laugh ye sparkling waves and murmur : 
Ethiopia shall rise again. 



Know Ve m UM 

O know ye the land of the olive and palm, 
Where the sweet-scented breezes wax faint 
with perfume? 
The land where the trees drop incense, the clime 
Where myrth and spice and frankincense 
bloom ? 

Where pruners forbear, where wood nymphs 

revel. 
And Sylvanus trains trellises rare ; 
There Pomona enthroned on fruit tree and 

flower. 
Sits queen of the realm, — the fairest of the fair. 

27 



The land where the vintage ripens and falls 
Ungarnered, to rot 'neath the tropical sun ; 

Where Ceres divides the fruit of the soil, 
With Fauna and Pan when harvest is done. 

And the rivers roll over golden sands, 
And glisten white on shingly shores. 

And the wide wastes trend from sun to sun 
Till they dip themselves in the briny seas. 

There greatness gleams in the pyramid still, 
And the. sphynx portrays the nation old 

That built it ; tho' ages o'er them have rolled 
And wanton centuries reveled at will. 

'Tis the land of shadows, the eastern clime, 
Where the princes of Zoan flourished and fell. 

Where history lies buried 'neath Lybian sands. 
And traditions faint glim'rings, past truths 
only tell. 

Ye say, we are Hamites ; then give unto Ham 
A country, a home, on Africa's shore, 

His own inheritance ye cannot deny — 
O give him his own, he'll ask for no more. 



28 



Jf Soliloquy 

I have my hand on the pulse of time 

And his heart beats tremulously and .slow, 

But his intellect flits 'mong things sublime 
Tho' the wick is short and the lamp burns low. 

The seasons come, and the seasons go, 

With martial tramp and the world grows old. 

And men as gods pass to and fro, 

And intellect triumphs o'er realms untold. 

Space is spanned and the distances 

Rest on the disk of the telescope. 
Worlds are weighed in balances 

And wonders wrought with the gyroscope. 

I have my finger on the wrist of Time, 

And his heart beats faint and his pulse is low, 

But his mind is young and its flights sublime, 
As in the ages long ago. 

Yes, time grows old and his visage fades 
But his spirit still God-like and pure. 

Triumphs o'er the wrecks of age 
While rolling centuries endure. 

Kingdoms totter and empires fall, 

And the world reels on to the judgment day. 
New thrones arise, God over all, 

And wonders are wrought in this age of clay. 



29 



nature's Song 

There's a voice in nature, clear and sweet as the 

deep-toned bell, 
Gentle zephyrs, whispering breezes, their lyric 

members tell. 
The softened swirl of the murmuring stream, the 

cataract's thunderous roll, 
Each, sings a song divinely sweet into the listen- 
ing soul. 
The quiet place on the widening plain, the 

tangled solitude 
Breathe in a deep rich minor strain the major of 

the wood, 
And the music of their ripples on the heart 

voluptuous rolls 
And the bliss of hearkening gladdens all the 

chambers of the soul, 
And a sense of joy comes o'er us, and a song 

we cannot sing 
Fills our hearts and sets us lisping in the praises 

of our King. 



my Lm 

Have you seen my loved one, in her robes of the 

morning ? 
A necklace of pearls, her fair throat adorning — 
Her feet are jeweled with dews of the midnight. 
Her eyes beam with love and the mildness of 

starlight. 

30 



I hasten to greet her, and close in her arms 
She holds me enrapt while I drink in her charms. 

She taps at my window with roseate fingers 
And beckons me, once, twice, come nor linger. 
With her near my tasks are fit only for scorning. 
I know you have guessed her, my love is the 

Morning ; 
I adore her and had I the wings of a dove 
I would fly to the ends of the earth with my love. 



Jltttumit'$ Ddttgbters 

September, heiress of gen'rous Spring stands up 
First born of Autumn, laden with blushing fruit ; 
Green-robed, fair-haired, bright-eyed, with ruddy 

cheek, 
A virgin fair, as fair as Summer's daughter's 

sweet, 
And in circle with the merriest maidens of the 

year. 
She sings, timbrels and skips lightly to the 

cricket's dulcimer. 

Now rules October, Autumn's second born ; 
Hands filled with yellow pumpkins and grapes 

and golden corn. 
Skirts all embroidered with red and purple 

flowers. 
Her breath exhales the essence from summer's 

fragrant bowers. 

31 



Beneath the sun she reigns, her throne with 

beauty Ht; 
Under the stars she dances to the grey owl's 

hoarse ''to-whit." 

Then reigns November, with darker brow and 

cheek, 
Cold-hearted, sad, with eyes more fit to weep ; 
A robe of crimson hue sets off her pliant form. 
She rules nor seeks to please with beauty, grace 

nor charm. 
But a limit is set to her moods and to her tears. 
For she trips with the year to the music of the 

spheres. 



Cbe Secret $igb 

Oft I feel a secret sigh. 
Deep in my lone soul hidden, seeming, 
Half plaintiff, half content, a cry 
From troubled bosom half suppressed 
Wells up — from spirit half at rest. 
From spirit, only half at rest. 

Yearnings pure, and still, and deep, 
For joys beyond what we have known. 
Treasures, which the heavens keep. 
And souls who crave the precious boons 
Receive the blessings, one by one: 
The angels bring them, one by one. 

32 



Oft in tbe eiodinittg 

Oft, how often, in the gloaming, 

Under the stars or crescent moon, 
I have walked, and in my roaming 

Mid the silence, or late or soon, 
Felt some spirit hand's caressing 

Bringing to my soul a blessing 
Angel wings, about me pressing. 

My lone soul benignly blessing. 
Count it not an idle seeming. 

Nor fickle fancy, term it all. 
This is no happy, idle dreaming, 

'Tis a companionship that falls. 
With a divine original. 

A blest companionship that falls 
With some divine original. 



PMlip 

He was a prince by birth. 

Inquisitive, youthful, brave, 

A boy of sixteen years. 

Inquisitiveness for him, 

Much sorrow brought and toil, 

Inveigled aboard a ship 

Bound for Virginia's shore, 

By heartless naves, who more loved gold 

Than worth of soul 

This royal prince was sold 

At Norfolk Town. 

83 



To kings' and nobles' sons 

More privileges are allowed 

Than to the common folk, 

And thus he wandered far 

In search of curious lore. 

Sold as a slave this prince 

Scorned first the sod on which he trod ; 

What else could he, 

With single arm nor friend 

This side Atlantic's wave. 

Oft did he walk alone, 

Beside the rolling sea, • 

It seemed akin to him. 

Its constant ebb and flow 

Beat an accompaniment 

To his restless soul. 

When some English he had learned, 

(Which howe'er in all his life. 

He never spake well). 

He after waiting long 

Approached Squire Ceil one day 

And thus addressed himself : 

I am an only son 

Of Fuma, Soudan's king. 

My father seeks me now. 

My country longs for me ; 

Please hasten my return. 

Truth sounds like truth alone, 

Though in a broken tongue. 

His owner stroked his beard 

34 



And some religious thoughts 

Flitted through his brain; 

But these were swept aside 

Quickly by thought of gain, 

Just as the Book is lain aside 

For game of chess. 

The Squire to him thus: 

Philip, have you not learned 

To love my house and kin? 

YouVe not been dealt with here 

Like the common sort. 

Then Philip to him said : 

Love's the lion his cell, 

Or the eagle the bars that fetter 

His flight? Nay tho' he learn 

To love the hands that caress 

Yet scorns he still his lot. 

Then Ceil to Philip said : 

ril think it over well 

And let you know apace. 

Days went by, and weeks and months. 

Meanwhile his father sought 

His son on England's shore 

And offered large rewards 

For his return. 

Two years dragged slowly by, 

Again he sought the Squire 

And once more pressed his cause. 

Thus he to Philip said : 

Your mistress likes you well, 

35 



And I and all our kin ; 

We cannot let you go. 

And Philip to him thus: 

And so loves she her squirrels, 

Caged but to amuse, 

And for a paltry sum 

Of golden coin would sell 

Both squirrel and love. 

And you your horse, good Squire, 

Because he's gentle sir ; 

Because he lightly wears 

His bridle and his girth 

And bears his burdens well. 

Emotion shook his frame 

And stretching forth his hands 

Toward his fatherland 

He broke the after-silence 

Thus, with splendid grief: 

I am a prisoner here, 

O land of my delight ! 

A captive slave, 

Only by the ocean's belt. 

That girts the earth t'wixt thee and me 

Am I kept. 

No arm of flesh could e'er avail 

To hold me here 

Itself would weakness be 

Wer't not for this. 

He smote hard on his breast 

And in a foreign tongue 

86 



Murmured a prayer. 

Squire Ceil grew pale with fear, 

Nor dared he longer stay, 

With grief so eloquent, 

At his hearstrings pulled remorse 

Hard and long, and greed 

Pulled equally as hard 

At the strings of his purse. 

Soon Philip found himself 

Hired to a man of wealth 

Near to Roanoke Town, 

Sold as he believed. 

The fact, as I am told 

Was soon made known to him 

By Gordon himself, 

A kind, considerate man, 

Who knew his history well. 

Philip liked not the change, 

He loved Atlantic's tides 

And the unpeopled beach 

That most reminded him 

Of his fatherland. 

He chose to be his groom. 

For horses loved he well. 

Gordon kept him in his house 

With his own family, 

And sought to make him feel 

Himself at home. 

Philip liked him well, 

37 



Still all the while adored 
His kingly kindred ties, 
And his native land. 
He learned to love the hills, 
And woods and rocks and things 
Native to them. 
Nineteen years he walked 
Alone, and lived and hoped. 
As sailors hope at sea, 
'Gainst wind and tide 
To reach again the port 
From which they sailed. 

Once Gordon to him said: 
Philip, I've been your friend, 
I believe you will allow, 
Let me advise you now 
Out of our household here 
To take a wife. 
Here's Betty, our own cook, 
Jolly and well disposed; 
Of pastries there are none 
That can surpass her own, 
I'll wager her against 
Any baker in Roanoke Town. 
Here's Sally, my wife's maid. 
Both gentle and well behaved ; 
Of any you can choose. 
And Philip answered thus: 
Not of my tribe are they, 

38 



Naught to me can they be. 
Sir Gordon, as time goes on 
What and if my sire 
Should find me here anon, 
And bid you let me go, 
Whose would my household be? 
Again, as time goes on. 
And you and I have died. 
Whose should my children be? 
Truly, Philip's sir. 
Although I like you well. 
Love I my kindred more. 

One lovely summer's eve 
As by the Roanoke he stood, 
A rustle caught his ear 
And turning quick he saw 
An Indian maiden near. 
Her dark eyes met his own, 
A moment, steady, calm. 
Then as a fawn doth run. 
When frightened by a footfall 
She hastened toward the wood 
Even leaping o'er the broomsage 
That grew upon the ledge. 
'Twas on an autumn eve, 
September, I am told. 
That he once more beheld 
The self-same maid. 
Nay, stay he quickly called, 

39 



I am a stranger here; 
For years I've walked these shores- 
No loved ones, friends, nor kin, 
To welcome me. 
I've heard this is your home 
May you not bid me stay ? 
With many other words 
He sought to lay her fears 
And prove himself a friend. 
True, sir, this was our home. 
Here on this charmed spot. 
In primal forests grand 
My fathers sought the deer. 
Or vied in pedestrianship 
With the roe-buck. 
'Twas here by mother wrought, 
And crooned to her papoose. 
While hearkening for the footsteps, 
Of her returning spouse. 
But now the pale man comes 
And lays our forests low; 
Even now the ax is heard. 
Half of our tribe has gone. 
And soon we, too, must go. 

No more she shunned the prince 
And as the weeks slipped by 
Friendship ripened into love. 
Deserted by her own 
Because she loved the prince, 

40 



One day Philip led 
The coy Mohawk girl 
To Mayor Gordon's home, 
And over her raven locks, 
Sarah Gordon spread a veil 
Of snowy whiteness, 
And in the drawing room 
The marriage rites were read. 
'Twas now the Christmas tide, 
And Gordon dowered them 
With acres ten to hold — 
A lifetime lease upon 
She, with a wheel and goods. 

Together they walked twelve years 

And wrought and loved and hoped. 

King Fuma still his son 

Sought, both far and wide. 

And after three decades 

Sought him in Norfolk Town, 

Then on to Roanoke came. 

But found the Soudan's prince 

Had died a captive slave 

Three years before. 

For many years she lived 

Still on the acres ten, 

With her family ; 

For all her tribe had gone. 

Wrought where she felt disposed 

For all the country 'round 

41 



Knew and admired her 
For her quiet, gentle mein. 

A tear falls as I write 

This story sad and true, 

Fancy the curtain lifts 

And in the distance dim 

An exile, dark and tall, 

In pensive thought I view 

Beside the rolling sea; 

With eyes backward cast 

Toward his native land. 

His children closely press 

To hear the story old 

And oftentimes rehearsed; 

His wife still closer clings, 

For she has felt the pangs 

Of an exile, though at home. 

I look again and see 

Two graves, forgotten now. 

On a hill near Roanoke Town. 

The story of their lives 

Even where they lived. 

Perished long ago 

With those who knew it best. 

But if it truthful be 

That soundwaves once began, 

Resound unceasingly 

Through distances unknown. 

Then somewhere still is sounding 

42 



Through unknown spaces vast, 

The voice of Philip's prayer 

And of the Indian girl's, 

Who loved and pitied him 

And cast her lot with his ; 

Twelve decades ago 

They lived as you and I, 

And loved and longed and hoped, 

Felt much of pride as we. 

And much of grief and wrong 

Of their children six, 

No need that I should write 

Save that they westward came, 

Some to Ohio came, 

Others to Kansas State. 

Thus from Prince Philip sprung 

A race of princely sons 

And freeborn daughters, too, 

Of proud Ethiopian blood 

And Indian well mixed. 



4a 



Dttle Pearl UPayne 

(Written for his devoted sisters, Edith and Eva) 

Pearlie is sleeping with hands gently folded, 
Lips slightly apart, a curl on his brow, 

A smile on his beautiful visage moulded, — 
Was ever our darling fairer than now ? 

Speak gently, tread softly, our loved one is 
sleeping. 
In Death's cold embrace he slumbers now; 
O ! break not the silence with sighing nor weep- 
ing, 
O brush not the golden curl from his brow. 

A rose from the parent rose-tree is broken, 
The fairest and sweetest of five lovely flowers, 

O heaven ! give us a sign or a token 

That these remaining shall always be ours. 

Death came to our casement, he spoke through 
the lattice, 

Saying, I seek sweet blossoms and rare. 
Go, thou cruel gleaner, go reap the wild clovers 

But touch not my rose buds so passingly fair. 

He heeded not, nor tears, nor pleading. 
But ruthlessly snapped the tendrils away. 

And crushed the bud in his icy fingers 
Till leafless and lifeless the flowret lay. 



44 



But now he is resting, peacefully resting, 
No agony more, — the life-blood is chill ; 

No calling for mother to soothe with caressing. 
No fever, — the heart-throbs forever are still. 

'Neath a little green mound, under branches of 
lilac 

They laid him — a single slab marks the spot. 
Though lowly the stone and simple the carving. 

The name. Pearl Wayne, will ne'er be forgot. 

The children playing at eve 'mong the winrows. 
Or searching at morn for the spring-flowers 
wild. 

Hie away with their childish tokens 
To the lowly grave of the little child. 

REFLECTIONS 

One dear one at rest in the bosom of Jesus, 
Six tossed on the sea of life's battles and 
strifes ; 
Steer wisely, O sailors, don't miss the blest 
harbor 
Where the beautiful enter the portal of life. 

No time to be idly drifting in pleasure; 

Life is today ; in the Maker's great plan 
Death is the night that precedes the glad mor- 
row — 

That day without shadows — eternal and grand. 

46 



Cbe Goiaen $bip 

Far away on seas of glory, 
Glides a vessel, built of gold; 
With silken sails runs my simple story- 
Three worthy mariners of old 
Steer the vessel, built of gold. 

Far away its sails uncover. 
Lightly glides the burnished prow. 
Like a silver winged plover. 
Laving breast of purest snow 
Where seas of heaven ebb and flow. 



£ine$ 

There's a song in my soul that I never could sing, 
A harp in my heart with a broken string; 
But I looked unto God — Lord help me, I cried — 
He heard me — the windows of heaven flew wide 
And the angel of song made haste to my side. 



DomeiicR 

O ! shall I ever be going 

Back to my childhood home, 

Back where the rose-trees are blowing. 

Where zephyrs oppressed with perfume 



46 



Flitted among the lilies 
And wafted their fragrance sweet 
Over pastureland green, and meadow 
At gladsome day's retreat? 

There Washington-bar and ivy 
Clambered the cottage wall, 
And the hum of the beehive at evening, 
And at morning the oriole's call. 
Made joyous the morning's dawning 
And restful the eve's decline — 
There fruit and clover blossoms 
The fragrant breezes refined. 

There robin his descant at evening 
Near the grove, from the mulberry tree. 
Would be singing, while I was hearkening 
And thought he sang only for me. 
His matins would wake me and often 
With shoes in hand I would go 
To catch a glimpse of the songster 
As singing he swayed to and fro. 

I long for the sweet-scented clover. 
The mead where the reapers tossed high 
The hay, and the narrow old pathway 
That lead to school through the rye. 
I long for the grand old orchard. 
The brook fringed with purple ling. 
The locust trees beneath whose roots 
Gurgled the mineral spring. 

47 



The scoffer may laugh till the hilltops 
Ring back the echo shrill, 
But ne'er can this blight the memory 
Of loved ones, or heart yearning's chill. 
Take from me the fickle fancy 
For pleasures that fade like flowers. 
But leave me the blissful remembrance 
Of childhood's happy hours. 

The family circle is broken ; 
Still oft in my dreams I roam 
Over the dear old plantation 
With father and mother at home. 
Still comes the fond remembrance. 
While slumbers soft embrace 
Binds me and charms my senses. 
The old pathways I trace. 

And like a broken reflection 
Dim through the lapse of years. 
Home and the family altar 
In the midnight hour appears. 
But ah ! in my waking I find it 
Only a dream, and the past 
Still like an ocean between us 
Silent, and deep, and vast. 

And ne'er can I hope in the gloaming 

With loved ones again to retrace 

The deer old walks, or at morning 

Meet their loving embrace. 

For years, long years, they have left me, 

48 



Yet their spirits oft near me seem 
Walking still close beside me 
In memory or midnight dream. 

But O ! shall I ever be going 
Back to that dear old home, 
Back where the rose-trees are blowing, 
Where zephrys oppre'st with perfume 
Wax faint o'er orchard and meadow — 
Back where the old rustic seat 
Invited to rest 'neath the poplar tree, 
Where at eve we were won't to meet. 



my Jfitdci ana T 

We stood on the hilltop, my soul and I, 

Looked down through the darkness and up at 
the sky, 

And the stars shed their fires and the world mur- 
mured low 

Its midnight devotions. I turned me to go. 

My angel beside me — I tried to produce 

A painting of midnight, but what was the use, 

The strength left my hand ere the etching was 

done, 
I knew I had failed ere the task was begun. 

I tried me again a song of the stars — 
My voice had no compass, my measure no bars, 
For what voice can hold with the voices of night, 
What alto so mellow, what treble so light. 

49 



No canvas of painter, nor story of pen 
Can touch it with tintings so rare, nor again 
Make it pulsate with life, like the midnight that 

fills 
Nature's vast temple, plains, valleys and hills. 

My angel snatched a pencil of light 
From under the inky folds of the night 
And portrayed the scene with angelic art 
On the yielding tables of my heart. 

She sang to my soul, how the sweet numbers 

flowed — 
Softer than e'en the zephyrs that blew ; 
She sang to me tenderly with voice born above 
And I heard in its ripples the strain of God's 

love. 



eooa-ntorrow ana Gooa'bye 

We have met and now we're parting. 
Who can say we'll meet again? 
Said goodmorrow on life's highway 
In a gladsome, joyous strain; 
Now farewell we soon must say. 
Shall we meet another day? 

Other voices call, we hasten. 
Other pathways must be trod, 
For the voice of many people 
Is oft the voice of Israel's God. 
So we journey as we pray, 
Jesus, lead us all the way. 

50 



Every pleasure has its season 

Every duty, every woe, 

Unseen hands of angels beckon. 

Though reluctantly we go. 

But our Father, — love divine, — 

Leads, and whispers still: 'Thou'rt mine." 



3o$btta'$ Prayer 

Then spake Joshua to the Lord in the day 
when the Lord delivered up the Amorite before 
the children of Israel and he said in the sight of 
the children of Israel, sun stand thou still upon 
Gibeon and thou moon in the valley of Ajalon. — 
Josh. 10:12. 

And Joshua prayed : ''O God, behold 

Thy people Israel, but few 

Encompassed by a mighty host. 

But Thy great arm is strong to save 

And mighty to deliver us." 

With eyes upraised to heaven he prayed : 

Fight thou our battles, gain our cause, 

And get Thyself a mighty name. 

O Jehovah! Hear and let 

The sun stand still on Gibeon, 

Jehovah hear! and let the moon. 

Rest o'er the vale of Ajalon. 

And Joshua prayed, oh, wondrous prayer. 

The power that moves the Almighty God 

Upon his throne to wondrous deeds 

51 



Of love, to prove to creatures vile 
His love and might. 

The sun forgot to set, and lo ! 

O'er the fields of Gibeon 

It paused within its course and stood 

All gloriously, as if to look 

Upon the gory fields, 

Where strove the fierce, contending hosts 

Of Israel and Philistia. 

And o'er the vale of Ajalon 

Hung the wan moon. Dusky eve 

Tarried behind the eastern hills 

Till two days' lengths had passed away. 

Nor dared disclose her ebon skirts, 

Nor o'er the weary earth to throw 

Her shadowy mantle. Ebon shades 

The light forbade, nor dare they creep 

Across the threshold of the day. 

Canaan saw nor knew the cause. 

But ever and anon would cast 

An upward glance, till faintness seized 

At last their vital powers, and deep 

From every bosom rose 

A sigh. The arm of Israel 

Waxed stronger as the blazing orb 

Stood at meridian height, and earth 

Sat on its axis motionless. 

And had Philistia deigned to ask 
Ere yet the battle was begun 

52 



Wherewith do ye expect to win 

Your cause against our bannered host? 

What champion will ye choose to fight 

A combat with our mighty lord ? 

Though few their numbers be, and fierce 

The clashing armor of their foes 

Grate on their ears, and muffled drums 

Beat the battle march, although 

They see the advancing armies march, 

Thousands stronger than their own; 

Yet undismayed by taunts or jeers. 

Or muffled drum or clashing steel. 

The army as one man would rise. 

And with one prolonged shout acclaim, 

''God and the sword of Israel 

Shall over your mighty hosts prevail !" 

The battle raged ; the two-fold day 
The night withstood, — until God's foes 
Were vanquished; till victorious songs 
Arose from God's triumphant hosts 
And Israel's banners proudly float 
Above the tents of Gilgal. 

Bow down, O soul! though sorely pressed, 
Your cause and Israel's are one with God; 
Embrace Jehovah, meet the test. 
And leave the sequence with the Lord. 
Pause before the jeering ranks, 
Lift your heart to God and lo ! 
Time will bide, while angels fight 
And vanquish e'en your mightiest foes. 

63 



tbe two $im 

The Past's a sea, a darkened abyss, 
Into which all transient things 
Through the present softly drifting. 
Sink at last, forgotten things. 

The Future, is a sea unfathomed, 
Flowing gently to the past; 
Through the present softly stealing 
Thither, bearing all at last. 

Man between these seas is steering 
O'er the present while life lasts. 
But with death, he drifts forgotten 
Back into the silent past. 

Cities, empires, kingdoms, nations, 
Buoyant once upon the wave 
Of the present, now forgotten 
Found within the past, a grave. 



Cbe King of Day 

The golden gates of the eastern heavens 
Open to usher the god of day. 
Darkness rolls before his chariot, 
Like a nether scroll away. 

Up the blue ethereal concave. 
Rolls his dazzling chariot golden. 
Gloriously this ancient monarch 
Rules his loyal subjects olden. 

54 



Birds are singing sweetest sonnets, 
Insects sporting in his beam ; 
Waters laughing, earth rejoicing. 
Rugged recks with splendor gleam. 

Height and depth alike rejoice, 
Wood and plain with pleasure ring; 
Nature has a million voices, 
All attuned before the King. 



CDe (Uanaeriitg nyntpD 

Who art thou and whence, thou wandering 

nymph. 
That from yon lofty hilltop send'st greeting ; 
Or on the transparent wings of the air thou 
rid'st by. 

Our very words repeating. 
Goddess of the air. 
Who art thou and where 
Is thy dwelling? 

Com'st thou from some far-off fairy garden 
In which poets would delight to wander? 
Or dwel'st thou in palaces or mysterious caves 
hard by. 

Or on the lonely mountain yonder ? 

Thou spirit mocking bird 

Repeating every word 

We would be telling. 

55 " 



Mermaid of the deep, daughter of the air, 
Unsurmounted heights, unfathomed depths are 

thine ; 
Thy chariot the wind, thy couch the waters are. 

In every country in every clime 

Those lips of air 

Speak everywhere 

Deep silence breaking. 

Thou catch'st up the violin's strain and sing'st. 
The plaintive air, with all its sweetness telling 
By oft repeating how well thou lov'st the strain ; 
Borne on the light-winged zephyr from thy 
dwelling. 

Like heavenly music floats 

The deep melodious notes 

With sweetness swelling. 

Perchance thou art a spirit, which from the 

olden time 
Hast roamed the earth mysteriously 
And in thy salutations seek'st us to remind 
That all our converse of this life shall be 

Echoed over 

On the shore 

Of vast eternity? 



56 



On Cifc $ R($tle$$ Ocean 

On life's restless ocean when fierce gales are 
blowing, 

Or when the blue waters flow placid and clear, 
Bend to the oar, ne'er drift with the flowing 

Current, but constantly, vigorously, steer. 

Mark out an object ahead and endeavor 
To gain it, for if you cease to row 

The thing that is drifting before you forever 
Will keep the same distance ahead, you know. 

Set high your mark, then labor to reach it, 
Though torrents burst and wild billows roar. 

Hold firm your purpose, let nothing impeach it. 
Firmly and sternly bend to the oar. 

Employ all your talents if needs be to gain it. 
For naught's highly prized that's not dearly 
bought — 
Let this be your watchword and boldy main- 
tain it: 
First think out your work, then work out your 
thought. 



tbe €l)ji$e 

Robins singing in the woodland 
Rooks are cawing over the plain, 

Joyous sounds are all proclaiming. 
Gladsome springtime comes again. 

57 



Hark! Upon the frosty morning 

Rings the huntsman's bugle clear, 
Hist! the hounds are swiftly pursuing 

The fleet-footed, fallow deer. 
Ow-hoo, ow-hoo, ow-hoo, ow-hoo, hoo, hoo-ow, 
Ow-hoo, ow-hoo, ow-hoo, ow-hoo, hoo, hoo-ow. 

Swiftly the pack comes 'round the mountain 

Far across the purple stretch, 
Swifter flies the frightened fallow 

Keeping far beyond their reach. 
Ye may have the joy of chasing 

And the hunter's jolly cheer. 
But ril foil you — you shall never 

Catch my beautiful fallow deer. 
Ow-hoo, ow-hoo, ow-hoo, ow-hoo, hoo, hoo-ow, 
Ow-hoo, ow-hoo, ow-hoo, ow-hoo, hoo, hoo-ow. 

The river lies before our fallow — 

Behind him come the baying hounds. 
He's making for the crystal current — 

He plunges, with a fearful bound. 
Fright lends grace to every motion, 

Mark his steady, patient tread, 
Mark him by the whitened pathway 

And the graceful, well-poised head. 
Ow-hoo, ow-hoo, ow-hoo, ow-hoo, hoo, hoo-ow, 
Ow-hoo, ow-hoo, ow-hoo, ow-hoo, hoo, hoo-ow. 

Now the handsome pack of twenty 

Near the troubled water's edge, 
Loosing trail seek hither, thither, 

58 



Out upon the rocky ledge. 
Baffled are the hounds, behind them 

Swift the merry hunters ride 
But as they near the passive river 

Our fallow climbs the farther side. 
Ow-hoo, ow-hoo, ow-hoo, ow-hoo, hoo, hoo-ow, 
Ow-hoo, ow-hoo, ow-hoo, ow-hoo, hoo, hoo-ow. 



CDe Risiitd Storm 

The cloudy giant strides the upper deep, 
And trumpets his mandates in accents strong; 
The lightning encircled earth, trembles 'neath his 

feet, 
And leaps from crag to crag the thunderbolt 

along. 

THUNDER — THE COMMAND 

Now up ye coursers, too long ye have slept, 
The sun reigns long, the earth must be wet ; 
To our heart's content we'll gambol today. 
Then up ye coursers and let us away. 

THE RAINFALL 

Hist to the hurtling thunder's roar ! 
Hark to the wind that sweeps the plain, 
Did ever the rain fall so before ? 
Hist to the rain ! Ah, hist to the rain. 



59 



Hark to the music of the storm-steeds feet, 
And the storm-king's stepping from peak to 

peak. 
The heavens bend low, 'neath his mighty sway, 
And the earth is bathed and refreshed today. 

Listen to the hurthng thunder's roar, 
Hearken to the wind that sweeps the plain, 
Did ever the rain fall so before? 
Listen to the rain ! Ah, listen to the rain. 



time Steals Hmy 

So noislessly over life's crystal tide. 

So steadily ownward our vessels glide, 

So softly murmur the ripples at play 

From rosy dawn till twilight grey 

That entranced we forget, time steals away. 

Childlike, we list for the siren's song, 
And pleasure's invitations, strong, 
From duty's call we thoughtless stray, 
We dote on ease, — the light of day 
So softly, softly glides away. 

Yon tocsin strikes a warning chime, 
The seasons mark the march of time; 
Change, rings its gammut by the way, 
Yesterday's things are naught today, 
These should remind, that time steals away. 

60 



Thus silently the years roll on, 
Change, only tells us that they're gone. 
The vigor and beauty of youth decay, 
Age sprinkles the raven locks with gray — 
These remind, that time steals away. 

Oft, ere we awake from our lifelong dream, 

Lights from shores eternal gleam. 

The billows still bear us on and we 

Baffled behold our destiny 

As we strike the shore of eternity. 

Who would take from the crystal sea 
Jewels bright for eternity. 
Must 'rouse to labor and to pray. 
Arouse! ere falls the twilight gray. 
Know we the hours pass swiftly away. 



Scorn not d Stranger 

O scorn not a stranger, though tattered his gown 
Lest haply on your betters you'd frown. 
What matters apparel? Gay flowers adorn 
Most rugged branches all prickly with thorns, 
While mid the drear wreckage that winter has 

made. 
The violet and lily in beauty arrayed 
Bloom 'neath the stars, low in the glade. 

Far adown 'neath the ocean's billowy crest. 
Far adown mid the calms of the ocean's deep 
breast, 

61 



In hidden depths score fathoms below 

The pearl and wealth of the ocean glow. 

And beneath the torn frock, deep in the breast, 

A great heart may pulsate — a true soul may rest. 



tU Pilgrim's Song 

I am so glad ! My heart's full of song 
For Jesus my Savior all the day long 
Walks close beside me, my journey to cheer — 

1 feel no disturbance while Jesus is near. 
My yokefellow He, the most burden to bear. 
And light are my feet and rich is my fare. 
His companionship lasts to the end of the road 
And comforts me, strengthens me and lightens 

my load. 



There is a happy woodland far away 
Where lark and linnets sing all the day. 

Where creatures roam at will 

O'er valley, plain and hill 
And gambol unmolested night and day. 

No baying hounds pursue the panting deer. 
Nor huntsman's bugle call is heard with fear- 

The fearless chamois sups 

From mossy mountain cups 
Dripping waters from crystal fountains clear. 

62 



There shores untrammeled by the foot of man 
Spread out 'neath June-like skies their snowy 
sands, 

There Hmped waters lave 
The pebbly shores and bathe — 
Fair islands near the happy gleaming strand. 



g;-{ 



INDEX 

PAGE 

Daybreak 5 

Morning 6 

Midnight Solitude 6 

In the Garden 7 

How We Love to Hearken 8 

To My Garden Queen 9 

Mid-day in July 10 

To a Comet 11 

The Song of the Wind 13 

Prologue to the Fall of Cushan 14 

The Fall of Cushan 15 

Sequel to the Fall of Cushan 23 

The Rise of Cushan 23 

Oh, Know Ye the Land 27 

A Soliloquy 29 

Nature's Song 30 

My Love 30 

Autumn's Daughters 31 

The Secret Sigh 32 

Oft in the Gloaming 33 

Philip 33 

Little Pearl Wayne 44 

The Golden Ship 46 

Lines 46 

Homesick 46 

My Angel and I 49 

Good-Morrow and Good-bye 50 

Joshua's Prayer 51 

The Two Seas 54 

The King of Day 54 

The Wandering Nymph 54 

On Life's Restless Ocean 57 

The Chase 57 

The Rising Storm 59 

Time Steals Away 60 

Scorn Not a Stranger 61 

The Pilgrim's Song 62 

The Happy Woodland 62 



JUL 3 1911 



One copy del. to Cat. Div. 



